


Love Blooms

by Prawnperson



Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Flowers, Gift Giving, Kissing, No sex please we’re British, Title is a friend’s suggestion, Valentine’s Day, Wilson is a gentleman, and also a big nerd, bed sharing, shoddy Constant science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: In which Wilson tries to show Willow just how much he loves her, because he’s heard girls like flowers, right?
Relationships: Willow/Wilson, Willowson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	Love Blooms

**Author's Note:**

> Happy early Valentine’s Day! These two seemed like the perfect candidates for something short and fluffy, especially including Wilson’s signature awkward science. Hopefully you’ll enjoy!

Willow wakes up to flowers outside her tent on Valentine’s Day. She knows the date thanks to Wilson’s makeshift calendar that’s been scratched in charcoal onto a large piece of parchment posted up on the wall of a nearby pig house, and she knows just as well how wound up and reclusive Wilson has been the last few days leading up to it. 

The flowers are wrapped in wax paper, tied around the middle with a large band of orange dyed spider silk. From what little she can remember of the dull floral arrangement classes she took as a teenager, they’re meant to be in some semblance of a nosegay. Large sprays of white spring up from the lush bed of orange, red and yellow petals, interspersed by the occasional blossom of onyx black. It smells sweetly even from a distance.

Even as she turns it over in her hands, it doesn’t quite seem real. The thought of her, the pyromaniac survivor, receiving a bunch of flowers from a bashful sweetheart on Valentine’s Day. It’s enough to make her laugh.

So, she does, and pays no mind to how mad she must sound.

———

“I don’t know the real flower meanings, so I had to improvise a little...”

Wilson explains, almost sounding flustered, burying his face in her hair, absentmindedly twirling one of her pigtails with the hand that isn’t stroking her back.

“What do they mean then?”

“Well, uhm, there’s the obvious meanings. Orange and red and the like for fire, black and white for smoke.”

Willow cuddles in closer to him, beginning to reciprocate the slow strokes on his own gravity defying hair. 

“And then there’s the underlying things. Like, there’s...the black buds are meant to represent your hair. The red ones are like your lips...”

She can feel the warmth creep up from the bare skin of his chest to his neck and what little of his face she can see from the angle.

“Can I ask you one more awkward question, please?”

“You just did, but go ahead.”

The urge to swat at him is almost irresistible, the only thing stopping her being the ache still tingling in her arms from a day spent sowing seeds and weaving ropes.

“Where one earth did you get those flowers? I haven’t seen anything like them around here.”

And then, his body grows unbelievably hot, even hotter than before, shoulders tensing and chest tightening. Willow, with no small amount of difficulty, pushes herself up and looks meaningfully into his eyes. He has such lovely eyes, she finds herself thinking, blue as beryl and bright as the stars.

“Wilson?”

“I...made them.”

The words come out so small they’re near inaudible. She can feel her pulse quicken, leaning down lower, pressing her front to his once again yet never once breaking the eye contact. It’s so obvious he wants to look away, hands drifting to her slim hips, drawing abstract patterns in what she assumes is an attempt to distract himself from his rising embarrassment.

“Well, not made them as such,”

He continues after the silence stretches on for an uncomfortable moment.

“I simply took some different flowers from the nearby surroundings, bred them with a with each other until I got the desired appearance, then cultivated them until I got a successful crop. It was no bother, really!”

“Did you...did you make flowers for me?”

“Again, not as such. Do you not like them? I’m sorry, I know they’re not my best work, although I may be able to blame their shoddiness in part to my lack of experience with botany-“

Wilson’s nervous rambling is cut off with a passionate kiss, Willow’s lips moving against his with a desperate, loving fervour. The fingers at her hips dig in gently, blunt fingernails scraping pleasantly against the soft flesh, the kiss slowly dissolving into two separate grins.

“That’s the hottest thing anybody’s ever done. Ever.”

“I don’t know, your science themed card had some pretty risky one liners, darling.”

The coy smirk on his face is deeply contrasted by his blush, still shy as a schoolboy, biting his lip.

“I love you so much.”

Willow whispers, lips brushing his neck, still smiling away to herself, unable to suppress the feeling of unbelievable peace rising within her.

“I love you so much too, lady Willow.”

The bouquet of flowers lays in the corner of Willow’s tent until, upon its wilting, a majority of the blooms find themselves dried and pressed between the pages of Wilson’s field notes.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!


End file.
